


Holding Onto Gravity

by heijihatsutori



Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Angst, Dimension Travel, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, M/M, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 05:56:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1417682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heijihatsutori/pseuds/heijihatsutori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He never allows himself thinking on what ifs; because he has long accepted the fact that he never stays, that he always, always catch himself on the edge, that he can suddenly stumbles off on some random pavement and slips away, waking up on some random alley a world away, dimensions away, and meet another set of Hoya, Sungjong, Dongwoo, or either of them or none of them and maybe Sungyeol and Myungsoo too somewhere along the way but always, always Woohyun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding Onto Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> First Infinite fic and my attempt for some sort of comeback in writing. Also first time writing with a Sci-fi theme in mind. Forgive me if I'm a little rusty. 
> 
> Title from Nell's Holding Onto Gravity and lyrics from Kim Sunggyu's 41 Days and Coldplay's The Scientist.

**Day 1**

_-10 November 2012, the day the sun died-_

_[The light becomes larger and the windows_   
_Open up, only to close again_

 

_The light turns off]_

 

            He opens his eyes to a white ceiling and sepia walls around him, the sound of a ridiculously loud bell ringing in his ears. Closing his eyes, he exhales slowly, and sits upright on the mattress, hands on both ears. His back does not ache from waking up on a cold hard ground as per usual, and while he is grateful at that and his stroke of luck this time around, he cannot help but feel alarmed at the turn of events. And the unease causes him to close his eyes tighter as he tries to regain his senses; the ringing slowly subdues to reveal a presence of another nearby.

            His eyes shot open at that and indeed, right in front of him, or rather, at the end of the mattress is a man with his back facing the wall, eyes stare boring into his before the expressions soften and the lips turns upward to give him a smile.

            “Good morning, Sungyeol.”

            There is a flash in his head and something blurs but the lack of formalities irks him and he end up responding with a stern voice, eyes narrowed.

            “It should be-  
            “Sungyeol-sshi, right?”

            The man simply chuckles at that while he keeps on staring; his expression does not betray the confusion whirling in his head.

            “Sorry, I found you unconscious at the alley nearby the shop where I worked and nobody seems to know you nor do you give off the impression that you are from here; judging from your clothes so I kind of just bring you back. And I sort of checking your wallet for any sign of identity and I found something that seems like an ID card so that’s where I know your name. Hope you don’t mind.”

            He did mind actually, but given the circumstances it is understandable, perhaps, though he facepalmed mentally at the mention of the ID. Trust Sungyeol to give him trouble with that damn clumsy habit of his. Why would you put your own name on somebody else’s ID? And how did he get to possess it in the first place?

            “And oh, sorry I forgot to introduce myself. I am-

            _Woohyun_ , he thinks. _Like always._

            -Nam Woohyun. Nice to meet you, I guess.”

            At this Woohyun put out his hand and he stares at it, contemplating for a second before reaching out to shake the hand firmly, and maybe correcting the name too.

            “I’m-

            He was cut off by the sound of static in the air and a voice booms from the speaker outside, facing the only window in the room. He puts one hand at the left ear, the other hand firm on his side as the sound engulfs them and Woohyun turns pale, both hand shaking as he grabs his head, all the while mutters something along the lines of ‘impossible’ and ‘no way’. He walks to the window and indeed, it is chaos outside as people starts screaming and crying. Some are unable to move, unable to accept it. Still, he stands there, closing one ear, eyes searching.

            It is only after he confirms that there is nothing else he can hear that he turns back and kneels down in front of Woohyun, who has the head buried on his knees by then, and awkwardly tries to calm the guy down by patting at his shoulder until he ends up crying himself to sleep.

            Outside, the last of the sunlight fades off as the world faces the darkness that shall continue for the next 40 days until the Earth itself dies; following the diffuses of the sun into the atmosphere. The Mayans are right after all, he thinks as he lays the man at the same mattress he woke up in and leaves with a whisper as he closes the door.

            “Good night, Woohyun-sshi.”

        
 **Day 13**

_-22 November 2012, the day the sound died-_

_[The music gets louder and my shoulders  
Move up and down and stop again_

 

_The music turns off]_

 

            To his surprise the world and its insides has come to a calm ground not long afterwards. Perhaps it’s the resignation he saw in the old cobbler by the street’s eyes, perhaps it’s the numbness in the way the housewives go about with their lives day by day, or perhaps everyone just waiting for it to end without a fuss by now, considering the inevitability of it all. Everywhere there are news of countries collapsing, kings overthrown, and fires from short circuit or electric-related malfunctions erupted and wiping places off before its time.

            He has come to a general understanding of the place by now, yet he still feels anxious whenever he woke up to empty sky and dark night. People have stopped counting the days, and the usual greeting of good morning and good night has lost its meaning altogether. Every moment blends into one and maybe things are better this way, because nobody wants to look forward to the demise. His theory is heavily supported by the fact that the town’s very own clock tower is the first building to collapse -with the help from almost every citizen present- after the chaos begun.

            “Sungyeol, stop daydreaming and help me over here!”

            His head whipped almost immediately at that and Hoya’s crunched up face managed a chuckle out of him, before he moves to help lift the cupboard up. The place is a very definition of mess after the drinking session last night, which started when Sungjong somehow or another managed to unearth an unhealthy amount of soju from the crumble that used to be his rented apartment. He is not fond of what he still kinda considers as stealing, but the look on the boy’s face was so bright, as if he just found a treasure for a lifetime or something, that he just can’t help but go along with it.

            Settling on the chair by the corner, he goes to backtrack his days here again. He met Woohyun again on Day 2, who berates him for leaving without a note and make him worry (to which he simply shrugged in response) and proceeds to introduce him to Hoya and Myungsoo who worked at the same shop as he is. He gets to know Sungjong on Day 6 when he visited Hoya’s apartment and Dongwoo on Day 10 when they gather for the session of knocking the sense out of themselves. And everyone was so kind, so accepting, that he caught himself swept along, and lost the timing to re-introduce his name. Everyone knew him as Sungyeol now, and this weird twist of event makes him feel like losing himself more than he thought he would.

            “What are you thinking about, Sungyeol?”

            It took all of his being to let out a small smile. Because he has come to accept things as it comes, so when changes happen he caught himself stuck, unable to adapt as easily as he should. He never forgives himself for not being truthful, but it is hard when he had so naturally responded whenever the name Sungyeol comes up.

            “Nothing much, I guess.”

            He can see hesitation in Woohyun’s eyes for a second before he just shrugged and walks away, a teasing expression on his face as he sets his gaze on the grumpy Sungjong across the room. Outside he can hear Dongwoo laughing at something Hoya said, and he closes his eyes, straining to hear the smallest of sound from Sungyeol’s machinery amidst all the sound around him. He still tries to catch the usual sound that accompanies him whenever he slipped into dimensions though, the soft hum of static that is a constant with his entire journey so far.

            He tricked himself into believing that it’s possible to hear nothing this time, because the eerie silent pools as dread in his stomach, and all he can do to ease himself is staring into his reflection, just to make sure and convince himself that he is not Sungyeol, no.

            He is definitely not Sungyeol. He is-

            “Sungyeol! Dinner! What the hell are you doing coping in there, dude?”

            He gets out without another glance to the mirror.

 

**Day 27**

_-6 December 2012, the day the light died-_

_[That light that was brightly shining_   
_The dark path in front of me_   
_I wished for it to be you_   
_But this is already a heart inside a dark shadow_   
_That no one can see_

 

  _You can’t take my heart]_

 

            Today he woke up with knowledge of the date and such strikes up in his head, like a calendar just decides to pop up out of nowhere and he has to bite his cheeks before he let out a scream that might goes higher than Sungjong’s girly shriek when he found out that Hoya stole his ramyun packet. Instinctively he holds both hands on the ears, straining so hard he can feel his brows furrowed just to hear something, anything, only to catch Woohyun’s obnoxious laughter instead.

            Annoyed, he opens his eyes, and indeed, the man is there clutching his stomach with a hand pointed at him, as if he just witness the most ridiculous thing ever, and his immediate reaction to that is to throw the pillow at that face.

            And throw it he did. Still, it doesn’t stop the laughter, to his chagrin.

            Resigned, he proceeds to ignore the guy altogether, stifling a yawn while attempting to get out and maybe grab some food or something, when Woohyun suddenly plops down in front of him, and he looks up to stare straight into dark charcoal eyes.

            He never allows himself thinking on what ifs; because he has long accepted the fact that he never stays, that he always, always catch himself on the edge, that he can suddenly stumbles off on some random pavement and slips away, waking up on some random alley a world away, dimensions away, and meet another set of Hoya, Sungjong, Dongwoo, or either of them or none of them and maybe Sungyeol and Myungsoo too somewhere along the way but always, always Woohyun.

            Sungyeol, the ever genius bastard he is, did explain it to him, how there are lines of coordinate axes or something that exist and build up the world, and he just happens to able to travel along the extra axes, that leads to other dimension or parallel world of the world he knew, which are normally not perceptible and invisible, after the accident that involve the quantum event and the opening of the wormhole. Frankly speaking, he doesn’t really get the whole picture of what the scientist said, and still can’t understand it after all this time.

            The only thing that is obvious to him is how time flows in a different manner in one dimension compare to others, resulting in it unable to do anything to him. Or maybe it is just that the concept of time itself becomes something he never can fully comprehend, after all the walking he did. He had once fall into one where Dongwoo is just a kindergartener with a wide smile and laughter, one where Sungyeol is already a genius scientist at 16, one where Myungsoo is a celebrated photographer in his 30s, one where Hoya is a superstar at 20 and Sungjong the child actor prodigy and one where Woohyun is a freaking old man but still smiles welcomingly as he crashes on the garden filled with sunflowers behind a cozy cottage belonged to the said old man. He had met everyone at almost every point of their life at different dimensions, but he had never once met another version of himself, and that made him wonder if he was abandoned by time itself.

            Ironically, too, now that he think about it as the calendar in his head keep counting on the days, maybe he is the only person left who faithfully or able to do the timekeeping now at this dimension.

            He does not know the significant of it, but now, as he holds Woohyun’s gaze in his, he can’t help but think that it is amazing; the effect the same eyes can have on him, wherever and whenever they met.

            He knows this, knows the end before anything begins, but each time he will always look into those eyes, never resenting, never rejecting, because each meeting is precious, each memories are important so as they are bittersweet, and it doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

             Still, its ridiculous how he always ends up searching for a part of his in them, and get lost with more questions and thousands of who are yous that is left unsaid and always, always hanging in the air, clear for him to see every single time.

            And like always, as if a given, too, he never answers, not even once.

 

**Day 39**

_-18 December 2012, the day the ignorance died-_

_[Everything I gave to you wasn’t for you_   
_It was so that it would feel like nothing to me_   
_Everything that was pointed towards you that wasn’t love_   
_It was only because I wanted to believe that it was_

 

_That we’re reachable]_

 

            The calendar in his head is incomplete, because while he does not think that things like date or what month or what day is it are significant enough –he doesn’t even remember nor had any idea on how old he is or ways to measure them by now- he did have the basic knowledge of how it works in most dimensions. And this is made confirm when he found an old calendar in Dongwoo’s basement -one that might still be hanging on a wall somewhere be it the sun still here- that December has 31 days in this world.

            If he is in some world away, he might, or rather, will surely brush this off. But here he is, in a dimension where the world is freaking ending of all things, and the calendar in his damn head might be an alarm given to him by time, as he woke up to see that there is only 2 dates left unmarked, the last date being 21 instead.

            Being a dimension-traveler (for the lack of a better word) the concept of dying and ending can be a tad foreign, though he did encounter worlds and dimensions where the people are living their last or had passed on instead for various reasons, and it always leaves him a bit hollow and numb till he meet them again alive and well somewhere.

            And when he does, do, meet them, he will give them everything, everything he have, even the things he never thought he have, till he died inside again when he wake up somewhere else, and repeating the same cycle again.

            For it scared him, the thought of them dead instead of him himself, because nothing is worse than the knowledge that meeting them is not possible anymore, and the constant that is them in his life wherever he end up being is gone –he can’t take that.

            So this new fact or truth as it goes at present scared him greatly because he cannot comprehend the thought of them dying in front of him, and it send chills behind his back, so bad it must has affected him like nothing ever did because Myungsoo, the ever perceptive guy when he needs be, drops all his work and goes over to give him a hug instead, all the while murmuring soothing words, warm hands running softly on his back.

            He wants to say it, wants to say the truth, but his words are tangled up inside, clogged in his throat, that all he can do is hugs back tightly, and it isn’t until a hand gently brushes his cheek that he realized he had been crying, Dongwoo smiling brokenly behind Myungsoo.

            Later, Hoya made him some soup and Sungjong gave him some lemon candy, while Woohyun stays beside him, nobody said a word and nobody asked anything, just offering the comfort he never knew he needed and for the first time in his whole long life and time of travelling that he ever had the thought of taking them all with him wherever he go next, whatever problem of slipping off the axes of dimension plane possibility be damned.

            Assuming he can actually leave it at the first place, that is.

         
 **Day 41**

_-20 December 2012, the day the silence died-_

_[I had to find you_  
Tell you I need you  
Tell you I've set you apart  
 _Tell me your secrets  
And ask me your questions_

 

_Oh, let's go back to the start]_

  
            He opens his eyes to see another date marked in his head, and Sungyeol smiling on a chair beside him, the smell of coffee filling the entire room. He sits upright so fast that he feels dizzy afterwards but his hands are firm on the man’s shoulders. He also noted that Sungyeol, whichever Sungyeol this might be, wears the same old lab coat he always remember in his memory of talking to him before, however long years ago.

            Sungyeol chuckles at this, or maybe at his expression, he has no idea, and grabs his hand back, as if to confirm that this is real.

            “Look, hyung, you don’t have to grab at me that tight you know. What, you missed me that much?”

            He is so overwhelmed by everything that he can’t even think of a comeback to that. And he can actually see Myungsoo smirking by the wall, arms crossed with the usual haughtiness and his head is spinning and suddenly he jerks awake to a worried Woohyun, arms shaking yet firm on his shoulder.

            “Wha-

            He is indeed back; to the world that is going to end tomorrow, but the visible relief painting Woohyun’s face makes him feel better, somehow.

            “I came in to wake you up for I don’t know, breakfast or whatever but suddenly there’s a black hole or something replacing the mattress and you fell or sucked into it and suddenly you’re here again but you won’t wake up and I- I don’t know. I just- don’t go off like that. Please.”

            His arms are limp on his side as Woohyun pulls him close, and judging by what had happened and Woohyun’s account then it’s possible to say that he indeed went back, even for just a moment, at the dimension where everything started; where Sungyeol is the scientist and the genius responsible for all this traveling thing, where Myungsoo is a brat and Sungyeol’s equally frustrating assistant, Hoya the dancing academy instructor along with Dongwoo the choreographer which also stays at the apartment beside his, Sungjong the conglomerate billionaire CEO who founded the laboratory and Woohyun is not there, because that is the only dimension where Woohyun doesn’t exist.  
        
            He lifts his arm to touch Woohyun’s, just to make sure, and smile when it feels real.

            Later, he gathers everyone and smiles so wide his eyes practically disappears, and it is so foreign which resulted in Hoya getting the creeps and Myungsoo’s jaw smack open at the sight, Dongwoo beaming and well, just being Dongwoo, and he gathers his courage; Sungjong’s hand firm on his as he inhales and generally trying to actually breathe.

            Because this is the reality he is facing, and he is reaching out.

            He exhales.

            “My name is Sunggyu. Kim Sunggyu. I-”

            This time, they’re reachable.


End file.
